There is no Chapter 26. In fact, the story ends at Chapter 25. This is because I wrote this when I was in high school after reading Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger. I was so moved by his book, that I decided to write what would have happened to Holden. It was a school assignment, but I always thought that I had really caputred the theme of the book, the tone, the language of the characters, and the essence of Catcher. I am not publishing this, nor do I wish to do anything more than display the work on my website for others to view. Enjoy!
�Why do you feel that way?� Dr. Luce asked me as he was tapping his blue bald point pen on this big pad. It seemed peculiar to me as to why he would ask a question like that. I mean nobody�s ever asked me anything about how I felt. And also, I�ve never really thought about it before. I�ve never thought about how I felt about some of the things that I think about. I don�t believe it has ever occurred to me that their is an emotion behind everything you think about. I think I read that on a cocktail napkin somewhere.
�I don�t know,� I replied, �The people were there for a little while and I had some fun with them. Well, maybe not Maurice, but if I could give them a buzz and meet them at Ernie�s for a drink, I know that with every person I could have a few laughs with them. It wouldn�t hurt anyone if they had a goddam laugh.�
Dr. Luce had a serious expression on his face, like he was in deep thought or something. Then he looked down at his pad and scribbled something. I didn�t see it too well because I have had my head pointed to one side and my neck was beginning to hurt a goddamn lot. So I turned my head to the other side of the leather couch and was surprised by the sudden chill. That�s what I hate about leather couches, every time you sit on them for the first time, it�s as cold as an ice cube. Then when you�ve been lying on the leather for a while and want to move positions, it�s cold all over again. It was depressing.
Then, Dr. Luce straightened up his posture in his wobbly chair and interrupted my train of thoughts. I could tell that he was going to ask another dumb question. �Do you ever miss you parents they way you miss all of those other people?�
�No!� Why the hell would the psychoanalyst bring up my parents. �What kind of a question is that? If they are always sending me to places far away from home, then obviously, they don�t goddamn want me around. Why the hell would I miss them always yelling at me and telling me that I�m a bum who will die from being shot by an Italian gangster and left on the dirty curb of Brooklin if I don�t take responsibility.� I meant that too. My dad really told me that when I came home and threw-up all over the expensive carpet.
�Holden, if they are sending you to highly ranked high schools, don�t you think that they have your best interest at mind?� Dr. Luce had the pen in his mouth saying what he said.
I really didn�t feel like talking about my parents. I wasn�t in the mood. All I could picture was mom and dad always being a pain in the butt. It was depressing me even more then ever. So I decided not to answer the question. I�ll just stay quiet and not say a goddamn thing. I don�t need to answer if I don�t want to-Dr. Luce told me that at the beginning of the session. So I just lied there and counted the squares on the ceiling. After the long pause, Dr. Luce changed the subject.
�So, how do you feel about your little adventure that you just told me about?� I was beginning to get annoyed with these stupid questions of how I feel and all this crap. Why does he care if I feel anything? He�s just a phony trying to make up conversation so it looks like he gives a damn about anything I say. Besides, I wasn�t in the mood.
I replied, �Didn�t I already tell ya that I don�t know what to think about it! I don�t know what I feel about it either. Next dumb question!� I didn�t mean for it to come out that mean, but I was getting really mad that these were the only questions this guy could think up of.
�Well then,� Dr. Luce said as he cleared his throat and fixed his position in his chair, �Have you ever thought about your future?�
�Yeah. Well. . . I don�t know. I mean, the future is so far away that I don�t really care about it all that much. It will come when it does and there is no way to stop it. Whatever is going to happen will happen when it�s suppose to.� I said, falling lower into the couch. I had a headache from talking so much. When is the session over?
Dr. Luce seemed very uncomfortable in that chair because he fixed himself for the hundredth time in this hour. Then he explained, �If you make a decision on what your going to do, then you can make a plan for the future. I�m not talking about a sudden thought that excites you so much you just do it automatically. I�m expressing to you that you could make something of yourself and be the essential cause of what happens to you in the future. It�s not predetermined that you are going to fail. Nothing is absolute.�
I was beginning to become interested in what Dr. Luce said. He was making sense about all of this junk of being the cause of what happens to me. �Yeah, go on Doc,� I urged him. Maybe he�ll say something that�ll blow me away.
Dr. Luce suddenly got a little more confident with me and put his pen and pad down. Then he got into this long explanation. �Life is what you make of it. If you keep on doing exactly what your doing, nothing is ever going to change and the world will always seem to be bringing you down and hurting you. However, their is a way to fight it. There is a way of beating the odds and becoming something you would have never thought you could be. You are the only one who holds the power because you are the only one who can make yourself do something. I can�t make that decision, your brother, sister, parents, and any other person you meet in the world can�t make the decision for you. The world is waiting for you to do something, Holden. It would be a shame if you let that opportunity waste away.�
Wow. What a speech. I never thought of the future as a powerful force I hold. The greatest part about it was that the damn psychoanalyst was making a whole lot of scence. It sounded so easy and interesting the way Dr. Luce remarked about the world waiting for me. He was being a great goddamn prince. I was beginning to get excited and I sat up, laying my back on the couch. Looking at Dr. Luce, he appeared to me less professional and more of a regular person. He had stopped moving in his chair. This must have been the first time I ever thought of my future in this way. I liked it a lot.
�What is there for me to do? What does the world want that I can provide?� I wanted to know what the psychoanalyst could say about that. So he replied,
�Well, what are you interested in? Do you have a hobby? An interest in a school subject? Or are you athletic?� Dr. Luce was just as excited as I was. It almost freaked me out.
I thought for a moment. I know that I want to be more than anything - the catcher in the rye. Just like I told old Phoebe when she was getting all upset at me. �I would like to be a catcher in the rye.�
Dr. Luce suddenly had a confused look on his face. I didn�t feel like explaining what I said, but I said it anyway. �When I was talking to Phoebe, I told her that I wanted to be the person in fields who catches anybody who falls off the cliffs. . .�
�Yes I do recall you telling me that!� Dr. Luce suddenly interrupted. I was annoyed. I hate it when some damn jerk doesn�t even completely listen to what you say. When I was about to tell him that, Dr. Luce quickly responded, �What do you think you can do that will help keep those kids from falling off that cliff?�
There�s those stupid questions again. I thought that Dr. Luce was more interesting when he wasn�t acting like my goddamn psychoanalyst. Now I feel a madman. �I don�t want to think about it anymore.�
Dr. Luce looked like he was going to burst into flames or something. He go all indignant and exclaimed, �When are you going to think about it? Tomorrow, next week, next year; by that time you might be too late. This is your chance to face the facts and do something to help those children you just told me you wanted to save.�
�I�m tired.� I said. �I�ve said so much that my mouth is dry and my throat is soar. I need a drink of water or something.�
�All right,� Dr. Luce said, displeased. �We�ll talk some more at our next session.� He picked up his pad and made some more notes. I got up and walked around a bit to stretch out my back. As I walked around, I got thinking about saving those kids. I couldn�t get my mind off of it. I knew that I was the only one in the world who gave a damn and could help out these kids and make them smile. Then I got an idea. It just came to me like a flick of a switch. It all came flooding into my head like when I dizzy while I�m drunk. I didn�t say anything to Dr. Luce though, because I had to make sure that it was the right decision to make. Like he said, I have to make these plans for the future and find out what happens to them.
I walked back to my room after Dr. Luce scheduled my next session and told me to stop cursing so damn much. I told him I would, but I lied. I lied about having a soar throat and all that crap, too. Anyway, When I entered the room, it was empty. So I immediently went over to my desk D.B. brought for me and took out some paper and a pen. I started to write a story. I figured that because everybody likes my compositions and essays that I should try writing stories. Only, the stories that I write are going to be for kids. These stories are going to be happy and full of excitement. They are not going to be like other novels that I�ve read with a damn huge complicated problem that eventually turns out to a bad outcome. These stories are going to be different. They are going to be a way for kids to find a happy place and have fun. When kids are sad, they can read my books and feel better. When kids are angry, they will pick up my book and forget all of their problems. When they need to be reminded that their is a happy place for them, they can read my stories. I�ll let Phoebe be the first one to read them and if she likes them, maybe D.B. will get them published for me. If Dr. Luce doesn�t act like a goddamn hot-shot psychoanalyst, I�ll tell him about it too.
Now how will I start. �Once upon a time, there was a happy little boy named Allie. He was the kindest , nicest kid you would have ever met. Everybody Allie would meet would always have a smile on his face and never a tear in their eye. He was the type of kid who could always find a laugh in a dull joke. He was the type of boy who would never hurt a fly. Allie was the sun shine. . .
